


together until the sun rises

by orphan_account



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-07 22:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17969351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This fic is a shameless self insert. I am using this as a way to cope with trauma, emotions and mental health issues while also exploring my own identity and fantasies. This will include all-too personal information (like my birth name and real events that have happened to me), so please just be aware of the amount of reality is in this.You're free to read and comment on course (I wouldn't have published this if I wasn't cool with that) but I do request that you leave critism at the door. This is just for fun and if you're looking for a real test of my writing quality, please check out my newer fics. Thank you! 😎





	together until the sun rises

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a shameless self insert. I am using this as a way to cope with trauma, emotions and mental health issues while also exploring my own identity and fantasies. This will include all-too personal information (like my birth name and real events that have happened to me), so please just be aware of the amount of reality is in this.
> 
> You're free to read and comment on course (I wouldn't have published this if I wasn't cool with that) but I do request that you leave critism at the door. This is just for fun and if you're looking for a real test of my writing quality, please check out my newer fics. Thank you! 😎

“Yeah, and fuck you,  _ cunt _ !”

 

The loud slam of the wooden door startles her, even though she expected it. Snow poured in buckets over the street as she stood on the porch, so foggy with cold that you could barely see down the block. It was dangerous weather, especially because of the lake effect. Even with her jackets and hat, mittens and scarf, it was bitterly cold. 

 

Hannah didn't care. The house behind her was no longer a roof that would keep her safe. (Not like it really was before, however.)

 

One step and then another she leaves the porch. Her hands hold the straps of a pink cactus backpack that rested heavily on her shoulders, desperately trying to lift some of the weight. From the window a black figure appeared, looking from the curtains, it's furry nuzzle looking back and forth hurriedly to try and see. Bunny was too old, and the weather was too bad. In her final, last moments at that house, her one true friend couldn't even watch as she left. Even though Hannah left a sister and a brother, her mind wandered only to her dog, and she would have cried if the wind hadn't been hitting her face so harshly.

 

She walks down the snowy street even though there was no plows. The streetlights didn't even guide her, many of them either off from broken lights or from power outages. Hannah didn't care, though, these streets too familiar to get lost in, even in the dark. One foot then another, her toes so cold they go completely numb. Instead of boots or at least thick sneakers she wore a pair of heels, the only shoes she had other than a pair of  _ Harry Potter _ slip ons that had holes in the bottom. 

 

Not like she had any choice. There was no going back.

 

The walk was long and hard. She nearly was hit crossing main streets, even though everyone drove at a crawl at most. The off streets were more bearable, everyone with the right mind to stay inside, nobody was out to look at her. She hated when people stared. On a normal day this walk would be fifteen minutes, perhaps, but it took an hour - or at least felt like it. She was walking towards the highway. 

 

She crosses the empty highway merge and sits in front of the bakery. It was closed but it's lights still shined enough for her to be illuminated in the storm. She sits under the light, putting her backpack in her lap in a desperate attempt to shield herself from the harsh winds. The cover that the building provided was decent, but still, it was shatteringly cold. 

 

With each passing car, she outstretched her arm and raised her thumb.

 

She isn't sure how much time passes. Her behind was so cold it was numb, but even then she still felt the wetness from the snow leak into her pants. All she wore was a pair of thin leggings, ones that didn't even cover her entire legs, every few minutes she had to reach and force them down again. It was hell. The pain of shivering combined with the uncontrollable sobbing, her night was only just beginning.

 

Unaware that she had fallen asleep, the sudden honk of the truck had startled her. She woke up with a gasp, freezing and pained, only to look up and see a man leaning over in a pickup.

 

“Get in!” He screams over the worsened storm.

 

Hannah moves slowly, trying not to hurt herself. Her body was as of it was frozen stiff and solid. She had had frostbite before, and she was positive she had it now.

 

She enters the warm truck with a grunted “thank you”. The man looks at her with a seemingly concerned half smile. “What the hell were you doing out there?”

 

“Ah, looking for a ride. Thank you.” Her hands shake and she holds them close to her stomach.

 

“Don't you have a house?”

 

“No.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Anywhere but here. Thank you so much.”

 

The man drives towards the highway instead of back to town. Hannah grins, somewhat happy that she was finally getting away from here.

 

“What's your name?” The man asks. “I'm Jim.”

 

“Hannah,” she says with a smile, more than happy to be warm. “What are  _ you _ doing out?”

 

“Rescuing pretty girls” he claims with a grin, looking over momentarily.

 

Hannah frowns almost instantly, but forces a happy smile again.  _ Is no man of any fucking worth _ , she thinks to herself, the sudden urge to just jump out of the car and die hitting her fast and furiously. Although no man has ever called her pretty, she knows he only says so because he's probably desperate. Even so, she can't help the feeling of shyness run over her.  _ It's not like I have any fucking life anymore. I should just kill him and take his car. I hope I get death penalty. _

 

The man stays silent for a while, and Hannah does nothing but look out the window. She thought about grabbing a book from her backpack but decided against it on part of her motion sickness. It was better to just close her eyes and try not to be sick. 

 

She didn't mean to, but she falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

A thick fog crawls into her lungs and, coupled with the smell of smoke, wake her up to a coughing fit. She heaves and goes to lean up, subconsciously doing her best to alleviate the pressure on her chest, but is unable to. Her eyes snap open and she moves her hands to try and take off her seatbelt, but recoils in pain.

Glass.

She looks around furiously, suddenly thrust into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation. Her coughing continues until blood splatters on the broken windshield, but comes to a stop shortly after.

A thousand things hit her at once.

Fog and smoke, both black and white cloud her vision. She's still in the truck, if you could even call it that anymore; the windshield was shattered, any parts of the glass that didn't rest on her or the front seats was so broken you couldn't see through it. And she was indeed covered in glass, but as far as she could tell, none of it impaled her, other than the shards in her hand.

She begins to hyperventilate. 

First order of business - seatbelt. She rolls up her sleeve and wipes most of the glass away, then proceeds to undo it. She sets it back slowly, as it was also covered in shards and she didn't want any to whip into her eye or break her glasses. She then goes to open the door, only to find it was locked.

She whips her head to the driver's seat, where her driver was laying.

“Hello?” She whispers, her voice cracking and dry. “Oh God.”

She goes to poke his shoulder, and only when does he not move does she lift his head back.

His entire face was beaten in, glass covering his entire head. Blood and brains dripped and spilled everywhere, his face creased in from hitting the wheel.

She was no stranger to gore and death, but instantly she felt her stomach drop.

Her hand makes it's way over to his door, hitting the unlock button. She made sure not to cut herself or touch him, but even more so afraid he was still alive and going to grab her at any moment.

Horror movies rarely show you how it is in reality, however.

She kicks open the door, slides her body out with a grunt and only reaches in to grab her bag, making sure to shake it off before throwing it back on her shoulder. Quickly she runs back, realizing that the car was on fire. As she runs out of the smoke, heaving and sore beyond compare, she noticed what had happened; they had slid off the road, and hit a tree. The tree, luckily enough, had reared itself mostly on the driver's side. Idly she felt her body, patting everywhere, making sure she was both safe and alive. She winced as she did so, glass still stuck onto her jacket, digging into her palms.

But it didn't matter.

She looked around the car, trying to see where they had run off the road. However, even as she did a full walk around with nothing but the fire of the car to light her way, the only thing seen for as far as possible was forest. 

It...didn't make sense, but Hannah quickly collected herself. This was just her daily crisis.

She looked for tire marks. It could easily be they slipped off the road and fell down a ravine, her state  _ was _ known for things like that, but between the fog and the darkness she was unable to see enough to tell. As she backs away the car begins to pop and explode, the fire overtaking more and more of the vehicle, engulfing it until it was nothing more than a forest fire waiting to happen. Continuing to back away as the fire grew bigger, one thing had caught her eye; the trees and the grass didn't catch. Her mind races to rationalize such, coming to the conclusion that it was simply the snow.

She walks into the woods, and begins her trek to find either help, or a new town or city. If she managed to find civilization, she would never tell anyone about this. They could find that creep's charred body and his shitty car, and part of her hoped they wouldn't be able to identify the body. Empathy stung her, poking at her heart, with  _ what ifs _ about family or children, but she knew better, and worked to quiet the feeling. The only place where having ultra high empathy got her was here, alone and lost, bloody and tired. All her life people had walked on her, used her, but finally, she learned her lesson.

People we're evil by nature, men twice as much.

* * *

 

Her phone was dead and she had been wandering for what felt like hours. The forest was dark, unnaturally quiet and horribly dreadful. Hannah could feel eyes on her, someone just out of sight, a bear about to attack, a creature in the treetops. She tried to let the paranoia wash over her so it would begone quicker, a tactic that worked back home, but it only made it worse here. Never had she felt so tense, so terrified, so  _ alone _ . The worst part was back home she had no one, but here, she didn't know. Half of her yearned to be taken by some creature of the night, kept or killed, it didn't matter. She wanted her mother to see her daughters body on the news and realize that she had done this. That it didn't matter what killed her, she was the one who put the noose over her head and cut off her legs and blamed her for not running as fast as the other kids.

The other half wanted to live. Somewhere she  _ didn _ 't want to die, only to have the pain come to an end. A sour feeling in her stomach reminded her that she was homeless, unfufilled, and penniless. Her future was in shambles. Even if she did make it out of the woods, she had nothing. Not even the military would take her on account of her body, and it's not like she would live through that anyway.

She was, unironically, one hundred percent out of options.

Her feet crunched through the snow and leaves, her legs aching in exertion and face numb with the cold. Her mind ran with anxiety and suicidal ideations, wondering how she could kill herself as painlessly as possible. Because even with nothing, pain was her worst fear, even if it would bring holy happiness instantly after. 

Her legs give out. She had to rest, otherwise she was going to pass out. She flung her body against a particularly big tree and sat in the snow, her thin leggings instantly wet, the coldness like pins and needles on her behind and legs. But even so, it wasn't enough to get her up, her consciousness fading, the last thing she sees is clouds in the sky turning grey.


End file.
